A Tale of Folly
by internal-entropy
Summary: Circumstances such as these can only end in tragedy...
1. Down the Rabbit Hole

The world had lost its heart. Yes there were still people, there were still houses, there were still cities. There _was_ life, but their hearts were cold. The Earth was filled with color, but they refused to see it. To them everything was in shades of gray. Years and years of living in fear and oppression had broken every strand of hope they might have sheltered at one point. When Liandri had first started, people had viewed it as something akin to a movie. They had slowly, without their notice, started to descend in a sharp downward spiral. The Tournament became the modern gladiator arena, and they took such barbaric pleasure in watching it that they didn't notice Liandri slowly seep into the government and in turn, their lives. Liandri was a poison, not one that would kill, but one that manipulated and squirmed its way into its host. After awhile, the Tournament was the only thing that people looked forward to in a day. They'd watch it at every hour, every minute, every _second_ they could. It was _fascinating_ to them, to watch these people blow each other apart, and respawn just to do it again. There wasn't anything wrong with it, because those people came back right? They didn't actually _die._ So it was alright.

Some regions were more affected then others, but Liandri had some part in _everybody's _life. The city in particular, where our tale is based, was truly beautiful on the outside, but so rotting on the inside that even one little tap could knock everything, so carefully plotted, down; for better or for worse. The skyscrapers soared above as though they could shake hands with the very clouds themselves, all of them laden with windows. Their steely gazes could send chills, both good and bad down one's spine. Even cold and distant as they were they held a special grace of their own. Restaurants and stores decorated corners and spaces between buildings. Nothing was out of place, no litter decorated the streets. It was perfect. Eerily perfect.

The only blemish of imperfection was a park, or what had been a park, in the very center of the city. The long knee-high grass was a deep shade of emerald constantly dappled by shadows cast by leafy branches that gently rustled against each other in a strange, soothing melody. The concrete paths that used to cross throughout the whole park were long since overgrown by vines and flowers. It had fallen apart.

It was a lonely place. Nobody came here anymore, it was scheduled for demolition sometime later in the year. Not one person cared, they were just thankful it wasn't _their_ property being destroyed. Only one person still loved it, and she was all alone in the world. It was a strange love that she had for it, though. It was a love so fierce it had turned into something almost burning with hate; such as how something can get so cold it starts burning. It used to be so close to her heart, but now? Now she didn't know. After all she didn't have anybody anymore to enjoy the park with, but strangely enough; it didn't bother her unduly.

Brownish red (more red than brown truthfully) hair brushed the tops of her shoulders, and stuck out at odd angles, giving her a frumpy, roguish kind of look. Her eyes had a sweet, sometimes mischievous gleam in their light almost honey colored depths. People liked her as a general rule, but a few found her a little unnerving. She had a way of listening to someone with a seemingly innocent face, meanwhile underneath she was scrutinizing every detail of the conversation. How the speaker used body language when talking and listening, the way their voice changed, facial expressions; anything and everything. They didn't so much as shift their weight from one foot to the other without her noting it.

She was analytical. Had the survival instinct of an animal almost. She'd lived on the street her whole life, and she'd had to learn how to read people. On the streets it was either learn fast or die hard. And even though she had a mean right hook, she didn't _want _to fight, she would much rather run.

She worked at an old-fashioned restaurant on 112th Avenue as a cook when she was fifteen, until she could pay the rent for an apartment. She finally settled in after a whole two years of hard labor, intermingled with school. The first month her bed had been a pile of cheap sheets, and she'd gradually worked her way up to a beautiful four-poster bed with 700 count blue sheets, and a blue paisley comforter. She loved that bed dearly.

It was by far the nicest piece of furniture (being the _only _nice piece of furniture) in the whole four room apartment and rather out of place in her roughly decorated home. Luckily she didn't have to worry about food; the restaurant owner, Andy, told her to take whatever she felt like. She did so willingly. After all it was _free food_.

Her life was pretty boring really… at least for five years. Then misfortune came running in her door.

It was around 2:30 in the morning when a frantic pounding on the door woke Flora up from a deep, and much-needed sleep. The redhead groaned before heaving herself out of bed with a muffled groan and dragged out of her room at a sleepy shuffle that would've put a sloth to shame.

"Folly!" called someone through the cheap plastic door as they hammered on it. She'd earned that nickname back when she'd started working at the restaurant after repeatedly getting people's orders mixed up during her first week of work, not to mention the amount of times she'd dropped the food, "Folly open the damn door!" She recognized the voice as belonging to her boss, too exhausted to really think about how odd it was that he was at her apartment in the middle of the night, she murmured in a gruff, sleepy voice.

"Oh chill the fuck out." Unlocking the door she found herself face to face with a panicked Andy, who looked like he had a group of thugs on his tail. He rushed in and slammed the door shut violently, then glanced around her apartment as if expecting to be brutally mugged any second.

"What are you doing?' she asked tiredly, not really able to register that her boss looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"Can you keep something for me for a couple days?" Even tired as she was, she was instantly on guard at his tone. That type of question never boded well.

"What is it?" His eyes flickered everywhere but her, and he fidgeted with his pocket nervously.

"A surprise for my wife." Who was he kidding? He said it too quickly, as if he'd rehearsed this in his head several times already. Not to mention he was as twitchy as a schizophrenic on crack.

"You're a bad actor."

"A few days, please." His dark eyes bored into hers pleadingly. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot expectantly, just wanting to get through all this nonsense so she could go back to bed.

"Give me one good reason why I should risk my neck for your illegal crap." He seemed taken aback at her assumption. She figured that was as good as a confession.

"How…"

"You come to my apartment in the middle of the night looking twenty different kinds of terrified and ask if I'll keep something for you for a few days? What else could this possibly be about?"

"I'll give you 2000 if you do it."

"Oh… _damn_. What do you have that's worth that much?" he dug in his pocket until he produced a tiny microchip; her eyebrow rose in surprise.

"That little thing?" she asked, unable to keep the doubtful tone out of her voice.

"It contains thousands of documents of governmental secrets. If it were to fall in the wrong hands, we'd be fucked."

"So why the hell do you have it?" she snapped, her mind recoiling in alarm as it screamed at her to just _kick him out_. She shoved her thoughts away as she waited.

"I have to deliver it to somebody." He ran a hand through his long brown locks, peppered with gray. Nervous habit of his. _Don't you do it_.

"How do you know that it's not going in the wrong hands?"

"Because Liandri is the worst place for it to be." She gnawed on her bottom lip thoughtfully as she stared at his earnest, desperate face. He didn't look away from her penetrating gaze, as she weighed her options.

"I don't know… if I got caught I'd probably be sent to the Tournament at best. And that's not where I intend on living the rest of my life, believe it or not I aspire to actually do something with myself one day."

"Folly please. I'm begging you, you won't get caught. I just have to make sure that the security cools down a little before I run for it."

"I don't like this." _This is a stupid idea, you and I both know it_.

"5000." He threw out in the kind of voice you used for the most hopeless of situations. _Ah well, that seals it_. Sometimes Folly really did wonder whether or not she was sane. Her voice lowered as she finally gave in to the offer.

"Fine, but I swear to God if I get caught and thrown in the Tournament, I'm gonna beat the ever-loving shit out of you." Andy flung his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"Thank you Folly." The redhead tried to shove him away from her, feeling as if her bubble had just been violently intruded upon.

"You're welcome I guess. Now get _off_." He gave her the chip, his brown eyes relieved as if a whole weight had been lifted off his shoulders. _There's still time to give it back y'know._

"Take care of it, I'll be back in a few days." Folly sighed, staring down unhappily at the inexpensive, yet apparently invaluable little piece of metal and plastic, long after he had left.

"I don't like this one bit." She muttered to it. It stayed silent; she wasn't surprised by its indifference to her misgivings.

She didn't go back to sleep that night.

Three days passed and Andy hadn't come around at all. He hadn't even been at the restaurant; she figured he was lying low, but _still_. She got decidedly more agitated as each hour crept by as she worked that third day. She wanted to get rid of that stupid microchip and get on with her life.

She set off for home at 7:10 like always, and got there fifteen minutes later. Two unfamiliar black cars were parked outside the apartment building, looking suspiciously like the cars of important officials. Shrugging off her edginess, she attempted to blow it off as a coincidence, trying to convince herself that they were just new tenants. Saying a friendly hello to the decidedly nervous looking woman at the front desk she went to the elevator and pressed the fifth floor button. A dark sense of "Fuck, I'm screwed," haunted at the edges of her mind as the elevator dinged lightly at each floor. The cheery elevator music nearly made her snort with laughter, but she settled with rolling her eyes at the incessant tune.

On the fifth floor there were two men and a security robot outside the fourth door on the right. Her room. Folly's hand drifted towards the seventh floor button when they caught sight of her. The older man was watching her, almost amusedly.

"Are you Flora Marian Blythe?" she knew they knew she was, and they knew she knew that they knew. Still it didn't hurt to try.

"No." The man who had spoken first was maybe in his late forties and smiled mockingly at her.

"Do you know any other short, red-haired, light brown-eyed women that live in this building then?" She cursed herself completely stupid, before taking a deep breath and stepping out of the elevator, "There's a good kid." He said, smiling at her.

She didn't like that smile at all. Not one bit.

Folly turned to run, unfortunately security robots are a little faster than humans as she found out once its cold metallic arms restrained her. She nearly panicked as she felt herself get dragged back to her door and shoved in front of the man. The younger man gave her a curious gaze before turning to his superior who started speaking in a voice dripping with condescension.

"Well Miss Flora, you seem to be in a right spot of trouble don't you think?" his legs were spread apart and his shoulders were drawn back. An unmistakable display of power and confidence. As in he knew he was in control of the situation and he didn't intend on letting her forget it.

"I'm not precisely sure what you're talking about sir." She responded in a formal tone, attempting to relax her body to give herself a cool, distant air. The elevator music was singing along merrily in the back of her mind, and she scowled at the irrepressible tune.

"I think you are my dear. A certain agent of ours whose been investigating this case since the microchip was stolen, alerted us that you may have come into contact with it." Folly's relaxed posture deserted her as her nerves fluttered in her stomach.

"Who might this agent be?" an unexplained sickening feeling had planted itself within her.

"He goes by the name of Andrew Lawrence." Her face paled drastically as her unexplained, sickening feeling was explained. She was speaking before she could think, and she thought to herself wryly that she would be an awful spy if she'd ever had any interest in that field of work.

"That double-dealing bastard. He's the one that told me to hold onto it for him." The man looked vaguely amused again.

"He's been working for us for ten years."

"I didn't steal it!" she protested violently, "He's the one that took it!" He frowned impatiently.

"Cut the shit, princess, and just tell me where you put it." She bit the inside of her cheek, almost about to refuse him. Then she thought about it, and figured they were going to get it out of her one way or another. She decided to go the easy way and save herself some pain. _Don't worry, we'll talk to Andy and everything will be just fine and fucking dandy and you can go about your business again._

"Come on." She sighed wearily, trying to puzzle her way through the fact that Andy had set her up for whatever reason. Folly placed her hand on the touch screen on the right of her door. It sprung open and she led them over to her bedroom, and still the elevator music didn't miss a beat. _Oh my God, please just stop,_ she snapped at herself. The man looked at the bed with amusement in his eyes.

"A fancy bed for a little gutter rat." She scrabbled under her bed, and pushed one of the floorboards downwards, pointedly ignoring the sexual innuendos that sentence contained. It creaked, but she managed to get her hand in the narrow crack and grab the little bag that she kept all her valuables hidden. Once she had it securely in her grip she squirmed out from under the bed again. With utter disgust she dug the tiny chip out and handed it to him.

"I'm going to _fucking_ mutilate him." She said surprisingly calm, though more to herself than anything. The younger man spoke for the first time. He was a newbie if she'd ever seen one.

"I don't really think you have that option."

"Oh shut up you little upstart." She snarled, working herself into a fine old temper at the betrayal of her boss. The young man looked taken aback at her brazen attitude and glanced at his superior in surprise.

"Miss Flora, for committing a treasonous act such as this you will either be enrolled in the Tournament or sentenced to immediate execution; whichever one we see the most fitting." The elder officer said with obvious enjoyment. The youth cast her a sympathetic look, which she returned with a hot glare of such utter _loathing_ he had the strangest sense of wanting to go curl up in a corner.

"I didn't commit any kind of treason! It was that bastard! He came here three nights ago and asked me to take care of it for him. He said he was coming back!" To her utter fury tears stung at her eyes, and she roughly wiped them with the back of her hand, determined not to let them see her cry.

The young man almost reached his hand out to touch her shoulder, but immediately discarded that thought at the second glare she shot his way.

Suddenly the instincts she had relied on her whole life kicked into action as the enormity of her situation hit her. She was being charged for a crime she hadn't even committed, outnumbered three to one, and was going to be sentenced to either death or life in the Tournament. This was no time to fuck around with self-pity. She glanced around the room, after all she knew it like the back of her hand. There had to be a way to get out.

A solution presented itself in the form of a window five and a half feet behind her, which led to a thin little ledge she could navigate on if she wasn't distracted. These guys, however, would undoubtedly prove a distraction. The young man was the closest, and he looked nervous, his feet shifting back and forth slightly as he watched her. The older man was still outwardly relaxed, but she saw tenseness in his arms. The robot… it was just cold. No body language to judge by.

It was a gamble. But what the hell? You only lived once.

Folly lunged for the window behind her, kicked it out and was on the ledge within a total span of thirteen seconds. Ignoring the sting of cuts on her hands as she made her way over the ledge, she glanced back at the window.

The robot was the first to follow and she wasn't surprised. However, robots weren't meant to scramble across five inch ledges fifty or so feet above the ground (not that humans were either, but they were at least a little more adept at doing so anyway). She knew all of this, but the robot didn't. She paused for a moment and just as it was reaching out to grab her, she took one hand off the wall, grabbed its head and shoved it off the building. To her alarm, the man in his forties was leaning out of her window with a gun in his hand, aiming her way. Folly had nowhere to go and could only gape in pure terror at him.

The gun was small and sleek, and she didn't hear it shoot. The only evidence that he had shot, was the fact something slammed into her shoulder, and a burning sensation burst through her whole arm in a hot white flower of agony. And even through it all the elevator music plodded calmly along, echoing off her eardrums and just generally being a God-forsaken _nuisance_.

Folly tumbled off the ledge with a sharp cry of pain. The ground rushed up to meet her in a gray blur and she squeezed her eyes shut, then waited for the end.

When she hit there was a bone-jarring crack, accompanied by several others. A few women screamed, as several people surrounded her still body; all of them trying to talk over one another.

"Is she okay?"

"What the hell just happened?"

"Is she dead?" All their voices faded into an annoying buzz in the back of her mind.

She didn't die right off. Though with the amount of agony coursing in her veins she almost wished she had. Her body was a fiery pit of Hell at the moment, and she was more than willing to bet she'd broken all her ribs, and maybe her spine. She sure couldn't move anything. Or maybe that was because her head was pounding something ridiculous. It was then she noticed something warm and wet was pooling around her brownish red hair, and faintly wondered what was going on. Her last, surprisingly calm and rational, thoughts were somewhere along the lines of:

_Mother would be disappointed…_and elevator music.


	2. And They Say Hell is Hot

**A/N**: Alright, forgot to do this on Chapter 1 (still figuring out how to do all this junk XD). This fandom is practically dead, but I've been wanting to put this story up here for awhile now, especially 'cause school is gonna be over in a matter of days =D. What I hope to do is finish this up during the summer, since I'm fairly certain that I won't be able to do a whole lot next year (I'm gonna be a senior XD, I'm excited and apprehensive). So yeah. Enjoy if this is being read :).

In the future, people have discovered highly advanced ways of recovering someone injured near to death. Most anything could be fixed now, and most sicknesses could be cured. Cancer included.

Really and truly the only thing that they hadn't been able to fix was the common cold.

Broken ribs? Not even a little worrisome. Shattered spine? Not a problem. Busted up head? Slightly difficult, but not even near impossible. But common cold? Jesus, Mary, Muhammad, and Vishnu! That was even beyond _God_.

Folly discovered all of these futuristic advances within two days of falling off of her apartment building, or rather being shot off her apartment building. Apparently someone had bought into her for the Tournament, instead of just letting her die. Why? She wasn't sure. She was short and skinny, and had never held a gun in her life, much less killed anybody. Didn't really _want_ to kill anybody. But then again, from what she had heard of the prisons, she didn't really want to go there either. What Folly wanted was a valid reason for being bought into Liandri's shit, such as maybe ripping Andy's _face_ off his _skull_ with her _bare hands_. Then she would accept her punishment with a smile… At least the elevator music had stopped.

As soon as she was patched up, they'd shipped her off towards Liandri's branch in their city. That's where she was currently, waiting for whoever it was that had decided to save her and sentence her to Hell all in one go.

The Liandri waiting room was a quiet, room so clean that you could probably perform surgery in it. There weren't many people around at this time of day, the only other being in the room was the secretary robot that sat at a desk towards the back. Its steady whirring was the only noise in the otherwise gravely silent room.

Folly reached up and touched her head gently. There wasn't any pain to her surprise and relief, and luckily the fall hadn't given her any type of brain damage. They'd told her she'd had a major concussion, then injected her with something to reduce the swelling. She didn't actually remember having any treatment, all she remembered was blinding pain for a day or so. Now she was only slightly sore and resigned to her fate.

The creak of a door opening made her look up, and she let out a hiss of distaste at the sight of her former boss approaching her. Without further ado she lunged to her feet and strode towards the brown haired man before he got halfway to her, her temper flaring dangerously.

"You low-life, mud-sucking, fucked up son of a bitch! What the _hell_ were you thinking? I haven't done anything to you at all. Ever! Why would you-" She seemed to lose her power of speech as she stopped just short of him, fury warring within her eyes. _Hell hath no fury… _she had to admit she was taking wicked delight in his perplexed, almost scared expression.

"Calm down, Folly." He cautioned, holding up his hands towards her.

"I ought to kill your ass!" she poked him stiffly in the chest, "You had _no_ right whatsoever to set me up like that!" He grabbed her hand and patted it.

"Listen to me dear, they were getting suspicious I had to get their trust back." His voice was barely a whisper.

"And you chose _me_ to be your scapegoat?" her voice was shrill with outrage as she wrenched her hand violently away from him. He clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Will you be quiet?" Folly slapped his hand away, before stepping back, disgust evident in her face.

"Go the hell away, I have to get into this stupid Tournament." He ran his hand through his hair anxiously and her eyes narrowed. _Oh no he didn't…_

"You did _not_ buy me into this. I am going to _kill_ you."

"Sorry Folly, but-"

"But nothing!" her voice was several octaves higher than normal, "You got me into this mess, and you better sure as hell get me out of it. Right now." His dark brown eyes went uncharacteristically cold.

"Folly, you are in no position to threaten, and you would do well to remember that. I am still your boss." He crossed his arms, as if attempting to put a barrier between the two. She glared at him, honey-brown eyes flashing sparks.

"Does Cynthia know about this whole business?" he smirked humorlessly, at his former chef.

"Cynthia is just as much of an agent as I am." She sighed, giving in to her situation as her last chance of hope disappeared.

"I guess it's just one of those days then isn't it?"

"Come on Folly, let's go." She snorted in a most unladylike fashion.

"Folly is right." She muttered and followed the tall man. It took him a minute before he laughed dryly.

"Very droll." She rolled her eyes.

"Who uses a word like droll anyways?"

They arrived at the space docks two or so hours later. Folly was feeling decidedly sickish by the end of the car journey spent with Andy. She was without a doubt, terrified as hell, and feeling rather lost.

Someone opened the door for them and bowed to Andy very slightly as the brown haired man stepped out of the car. Folly ignored the open door and pushed the other car door open herself. Andy frowned at her, but she ignored his disapproving stare as the man who'd opened his door spoke.

"Mister Lawrence, your ship will be leaving within the hour. Shall I take your luggage?" He was short, and had a dangerously receding hairline, that seemed indecisive as to whether take the plunge and fall out, or just hang on to life for a few more years. His dark blue eyes glanced over at Folly before one black eyebrow raised in doubt at her scraggly appearance.

"Yes, do that Tod." Andy murmured distractedly his eyes combing the crowd around them. While he did that Folly took a quick look at their surroundings, the space docks weren't truly docks, but a series of 150 landing pads for assorted ships. They were designed mainly for the use of the passenger spaceships that ferried people all across galaxy. But from what she noticed there seemed to be a corner where most avoided, almost as if it were taboo to go through. The ones that were by these dark, uniform ships were either hardened, rough looking criminal types or guards who all wore the same black and gray outfits. Folly was willing to bet her bed that, that was where she was headed. Andy's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

"Folly, be a dear; look around, and try to find five people shackled together. Two women and three men."

"You're taller." She muttered rebelliously, but still swept her sharp eyes across the loading station. After a minute she pointed to a group of people surrounded by guards. A tall, more official-looking guard was scanning the crowd, and Andy smiled thinly.

"That's probably Quentin, most likely getting pissed that we're running late. Very good Folly, we'll make a sniper of you yet." He ignored her sarcastic snort and they approached the group who were glaring at Andy with mixtures of irritation and anger. He ignored their hostility as he turned to the redhead beside him.

"What do you think of your new team Folly?"

"I'm thinking that I wish a Skaarj would come out of nowhere and tear your ass apart. How about that?" she spat. Then not waiting for a reply her resentful eyes drifted away from the brunette man's face and swept over the five.

The taller of the two women stood straight, she was as tall as Andy who was around 6'2." She carried a proud and distant air about her like a suit of armor. Her short, straight dark brown hair framed an almost delicate face, though it was obvious she was as far away from delicate as possible. High cheek bones were covered with smooth olive skin, and her red lips were set in a firm frown as her brown eyes passed over the people around them with disdain. She caught Folly staring at her and nodded her head curtly. Proud, arrogant, probably loyal; Folly noted all these things from the regal woman's posture and eyes.

The redhead switched her gaze over to the brown-skinned man who looked almost bored. She couldn't help but admire the fact that he managed to maintain such an expression in this atmosphere. He was short and burly and looked as if he could bench Folly without a second thought. His eyes were a rich, dark, autumn brown and she noticed some type of empathy as he examined her as well. She saw it in his facial expression. _She's too young for this, _his eyes seemed to yell. His shoulders were slouched and he shook his head before turning away from her. Strong, protective, short-tempered. Probably had the unpleasant experience of losing someone precious to him such as a younger brother or sister. Might've even had a kid or two himself.

Next came the wiry guy who had a distrusting gleam in his blue eyes. The right side of his face was smooth, with the exception of the slight scruff he had growing about his chin. But as she saw the left half of his once handsome, tanned face was crisscrossed with pale scars and ridged with scar tissue, she had to bit back a gasp. His blonde hair was unkempt and messy, but she couldn't take her wide light brown eyes away from the left side of his face. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and met her gaze evenly. He reached up and touched his face, making no secret of the fact he was aware of the fact she was staring at the old wounds. His blue eyes watched her unwaveringly and she could tell he was interested in her as well. Then almost sheepishly he turned the scarred side of his face away from her, and she scolded herself for staring. Cautious was the word that mainly came to mind as she watched him, but straight-forward and modest seemed to fit just as well.

Folly nearly took a step back as she met blazing bright green eyes glaring holes in her head. This woman had none of the calm dignity of the first one. She was pissed as _Hell_, and you better believe it. Her long black hair tumbled down her back in loose curls and her shoulders were drawn back aggressively, as if she was _hungering _for a fight. Folly had the feeling that if someone ever made this woman really mad, they probably wouldn't live to see the next day. Or the next hour as a matter of fact. Her gorgeous features were muddled by the furious glare she fixed on everybody, just daring someone to come and demand that she do something. Obstinate, assertive, angry at the world and anyone who dared inhabit it. Folly couldn't find even a shred of sympathy or consideration in the woman's hard glare. She'd been through Hell and high waters and by God they were wrong if they thought she'd ever be broken. She'd probably laugh in Liandri's face and throw their own heads back at their faces if they even tried to break her spirit.

Finally Folly scoped out the last man. At the same time she started inspecting him he examined her. He wasn't enormously tall, the first woman was probably taller than him. Dark hair with an almost reddish tint in the sunlight, deep blue eyes, lithe. He was a very attractive man, and Folly nearly dropped her eyes, but she figured now was not the time to show any type of weakness. His stance was relaxed, as he surveyed the scene around him with almost polite interest. He dropped his gaze back down to her and the ghost of a smile flickered across his lips. He seemed friendly… almost as if he were using it as a mask. She bit her lip in thought, she couldn't figure out anything about him. Most of the time, it was easy to judge a person by body language. But he just… wasn't. A frown marred her face as she looked over him carefully. His face was smooth and maybe a little amused, his arms hung loosely at his sides in a neutral kind of gesture, his feet were positioned at shoulder width. Everything was just… expressionless. Sort of. Well not really. _Oh, I don't know!_

"Are you quite done?" he asked, breaking her out of her reverie. He had a pleasant, deep-ish kind of voice, nothing stood out, he didn't emphasize any of the words more than normal, all she could do was blink confusedly at him. Her concentration completely broken.

"Umm, yeah… I guess." Folly felt weary all of a sudden and turned to Andy who was watching her take in her teammates.

"Folly this is Livia," he pointed to the brunette woman, "Dontus, Cinder, Tippy, and Draik. And the rest of you this is Flora." Tippy, the black-haired woman sneered at the name and Folly blushed a little. Cinder tipped his head to the side.

"You just called her Folly though." The redhead gaped at the blonde man, in dumb amazement. The blonde man's voice made Draik's sound like the harsh screech of a cat with its tail caught in a car door. It was… breathtaking. There was no other word. Folly had never heard someone speak with such a warm, rolling voice. Andy shrugged, completely unaffected by Cinder.

"She goes by either one, but I think Folly's grown on her. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh." She murmured, still staring at Cinder incredulously as she wondered just why no one else was spellbound. He laughed and she thought that half of her melted into a puddle of goop.

"Are you alright, Folly?" The other half of her melted as he said her name, and she was convinced they would have to scrape her off the sidewalk later. Livia looked on in mild amusement, as if afraid to be seen smiling amidst strangers. Her brown eyes wondered over to Cinder's in controlled curiosity.

"What happened to your face?" Folly made a note to add blunt to her assessment of Livia. He smiled and rubbed his face self-consciously.

"Lots of things. I doubt we have enough time right now for me to explain each one." Andy smiled slightly at the would-be team. Folly seemed completely entranced by Cinder and his voice, Draik and Livia looked amused by her reaction. Tippy had a frown on her face, but she was a little less hostile then she had been earlier, though by no means friendly. Dontus had a faint smile on his lips as he looked over his whole team. Even though they seemed alright with each other, an undertone of tension rung about the air.

"Well come on you guys the shuttle will be leaving soon." Folly noticed for the first time the docks around them were starting to empty as their fellow soon-to-be contestants filed onto their ships.

"Do we have to wear these?" Livia asked glaring in distaste at the cuffs around her wrists and ankles as well as the chain that bound them together. Andy frowned.

"I'm not sure if the guards will approve if you take them off." Tippy snorted at Andy.

"I have no intention of running. Execution doesn't suit me at all." Livia raised a dark eyebrow, as Andy went to speak with one of the men that had them surrounded.

"What did you do child?" The black-haired girl smiled wolfishly.

"Killed a guy who tried to have his way with me."

"And they sentenced _you_ to death?" Livia asked in surprise as Tippy shrugged.

"He was a Liandri employee."

"Ah." The dark brunette woman smiled faintly, "Good for you." Andy's mouth twitched downwards as he came back to the group.

"You'll have the restraints taken off once we're securely in space." They grimaced, but none of them protested. Tippy glanced back at Livia.

"What did _you_ do?"

"Broke my husband out of jail after he was convicted of high treason he didn't commit." Folly coughed and glared spitefully at Andy.

"I know the feeling." The group looked between the two, "Some people are just bastards."

"Folly, I'm giving you the opportunity to get your freedom back." Andy shot back, his tan face drawn with anger or stress, she didn't know.

"I wouldn't be in this situation if you hadn't stolen-" his hand clamped over her mouth, and several profanities were muffled.

"That's enough." He gritted out. The man from earlier, Tod, came hurrying over to them, interrupting Andy.

"Sir they are launching in twenty minutes." Andy nodded before glaring at the still silenced Folly. His voice was low so the others couldn't hear him.

"Now I'm going to let you go, but if you start spreading those ridiculous rumors I _will_ have you killed. Do you understand?" she nodded sullenly and he smiled gratefully.

With this little exchange they set off to load onto the shuttle.

And Folly was left wondering if Andy was actually bipolar.

Folly liked space. It was just… beautiful. Dust and tiny rocks hung delicately around them, suspended in a permanent equilibrium of utter timelessness. There really weren't a lot of things to compare to the feeling of flying through the black nothingness at such an unbelievable speed. The guards had unchained the captives and were standing outside the room they were stuck in. Draik was sprawled comfortably in a cushioned chair, as Folly stared enraptured out of the window beside him. Livia was lying on a bench with her eyes closed, feigning sleep. Dontus and Tippy were talking by another window across from Folly and Draik. Cinder was leaning against a wall examining the group with half-closed eyes.

"How'd you get here?" Folly asked Draik distantly, her eyes still riveted on the window.

"Deserted the army." He murmured, his eyes flicking over her. She turned to meet his gaze curiously.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Liandri corrupted it. We weren't fighting for the country anymore. Just carrying out Liandri's underhanded deals." Folly blinked and turned back around towards the window.

"I didn't know that."

"Yeah… so what happened between you and the old man?" she laughed.

"He's not that old, only forty three or so. But he told me he'd kill me if I started spreading ridiculous rumors, so sorry I can't tell you anything except I was framed for treason." The smile on her face was not a happy one.

"That's a shame." Folly placed her hand on the window then withdrew it sharply, shocked at how cold it was.

"I shouldn't be here at all, but it was either death or this... and Andy did save me from being sent to the prisons to be executed." She admitted grudgingly.

"Poor kid." Draik muttered as he got up and stood beside her.

"I'm not a kid either. You're really bad with ages you know." She inwardly winced at how stupid that sounded, but she really couldn't think of anything else to say. She guessed that's what she got for spending so much time by herself. The only time she ever socialized was when she was working in the kitchens at the restaurant.

"Then how old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"Are you really?" his eyebrow raised in surprise, "You look around eighteen."

"Thanks." She rolled her eyes and he noticed a glimmer of fear within them.

"You scared?"

"Nervous, aggrieved, terrified, that kind of thing. Aren't you?"

"It's a little intimidating." He admitted, "But it can't be as bad as real war. You don't actually die for one thing, but you do have the unpleasant experience of getting yourself splattered… repeatedly."

"Awesome." She murmured, sitting in his chair with her legs tossed over one arm. They were interrupted by Cinder strolling over, with an almost cat-like gait.

"Which division were you in?" he asked Draik and Folly just closed her eyes, listening to his smooth voice.

"32nd." Draik responded, sounding slightly confused.

"Did you know a Graham Nelson?" Cinder's urgency was almost tangible.

"I might've." Draik mused, looking out of the window again, "Kind of short, black hair?"

"Yes." Folly opened her eyes and noticed that Cinder's fists were clenched and his body was tense, as if he were waiting for a fight.

"Did he ever talk about his sister?" Draik's dark blue eyes wondered upwards and to the right. Recalling a memory if Folly wasn't mistaken.

"He was always reading letters from her, pointed out funny things she said and whatnot. Never mentioned that she might _not_ be okay. He was always thrilled when the captain brought out mail for us. Nelson had something every time whether it was from her or his fiancée." Cinder smiled in relief.

"She's fine then."

"How do you know Raisa?" Folly admired how Cinder's blue eyes danced with delight at the news.

"She's my wife." Folly raised an eyebrow

"How come you don't know if she's okay or not then?" Draik asked, now leaning against the wall.

"Haven't seen her since I was captured."

"When was that?" piped Folly from her seat. He glanced down at her.

"A year ago."

"What'd you do?"

"Raisa and I were having a hard time with money. I started stealing, she didn't know where everything I had came from, but she didn't really ask questions. She was just glad we could feed our kids, Trella and Rey. Then one day I hit a bakery shop and I got caught." Cinder scowled and added to himself, "Bloody Liandri…"

"You have kids?" Folly asked, he really didn't seem like someone who would have kids, "How old are you?"

"And you said I'm bad with ages." Draik murmured, rolling his eyes.

"Okay then, how old do you think he is Mr. I know everything in the whole damn world?"

"I never said I knew everything, and I'd say around thirty eight." It was her turn to roll her eyes.

"Thirty-two at the most." Both looked at Cinder who looked amused.

"Twenty six. Do I really look that old?" Draik and Folly blinked, before Folly spoke.

"It's just… you have kids."

"They're four and my wife is two years older than me."

"Oh… I guess that works." A shout from ahead made them all look towards the sliding door where the pilot and Andy had disappeared to. Now Andy once again stood in the doorway, a slight smirk on his face.

"We're about to land, get in your seats and buckle up." As Folly was about to inquire as to _what _seats he was talking about, the brunette man mashed a button and several rows of seats appeared on either sides of the ship. She shrugged, and went to sit down. Draik and Folly sat by each other, with her close to the window. She caught sight of the space station below them, practically alive with lights. Draik smiled at her sudden paleness.

"Welcome to Hell, princess." She turned a disbelieving stare on him.

"Thanks." She muttered, then hid her face in her hands.


	3. A Little Bird in a Dangerous World

A/N: Well... it's a pretty long chapter, but it didn't quite turn out how I'd hoped...

Ah well, what are you gonna do :p? NEway here it is and maybe I'll kick myself enough to get the next chapter up faster.

Sooo... AVAUNT! :)

She'd never really been all that religious before, but in the middle of her first battle, she found herself praying twice as much as she'd ever prayed in her whole life. She had wedged herself between a wall and a crop of boulders, hiding from certain death. Luckily no one had found her yet… unfortunately that meant that she didn't have any kills either.

Sudden footsteps near her froze her breath in her throat, and set her pulse racing. She automatically leaned farther into the shadows in a desperate attempt to make herself blend in with the stone.

They had dropped her in the middle of a battle with a whirlwind of people she didn't know, except for Draik. He was here. But she couldn't seek him out, it was a _deathmatch_ for God's sake.

Suddenly a hand reached down and grabbed her, Folly muffled a scream as she was wrenched out of her hiding spot by her arm. She was greeted by a man with crow black hair and crow black eyes, and a tan face that was made for mocking smiles. The stranger grinned while he examined her from head to toe. Folly was strongly reminded of a bird with a broken wing trapped in the claws of a hungry cat as his fingers tightened about her wrist.

"Why are you hiding?" he asked, deceptively gentle. Folly stared silently at him, her light brown eyes wide as saucers, too stunned to reply, "Not going to answer me, little bird?" He shrugged and she saw the hand holding his enforcer rise. Acting purely on instinct she whipped her own gun up and shot him straight in the face before he could finish his own motion.

His face _exploded _and she didn't know whether to cry or laugh. He let go of her and collapsed, his blood everywhere. On her, on her clothes. She could feel it running down her skin, warm and sticky. Strangely detached she looked around. _I killed him_. She idly thought, her eyes wandering towards the blue, blue sky above them. _I shot him and he… died_. The voice inside her head was dull, emotionless.

It was then she felt a sharp, hot pain flash through her shoulder, jerking her out of her reverie violently. A tall, lean woman was running towards her; a flak cannon in her hands. Folly gasped and threw herself over the rocks she'd been hiding in, until she was well sheltered and ready to fight.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are, stupid bird." Sang the woman, a dark note of amusement obvious in her low, alto voice as Folly wished she actually _was_ a bird so she could fly away from everything. The woman's quick footsteps died down, as she slowed to a halt. Folly bit her lip, decided, and came lunging over the rock. The woman was taken by surprise, but her reflexes were good. Right as Folly shot her, the flak ripped through the redhead. A scream ripped from her throat unbidden, and everything went black momentarily. That moment was wracked with even worse pain then when she'd actually had the flak ripping through her flesh. She supposed that was because her whole body was getting reconstructed. Flesh and organs had to have their cells reassembled and mended, and she figured having all that happen in her body all at the same time probably wasn't good for her. Her mind idly wondered what the effect would be after a long time. She didn't think it'd be very pleasant.

But yet… it was actually kind of… amazing.

To think that they could bring someone who had just gotten torn apart, back to life, in one piece boggled her mind. Not only that, but it happened over and over again.

The pain disappeared as suddenly as it came, but the drained feeling remained. She respawned trembling, and collapsed against the tree by her. She felt as if her whole body was unhinged at the joints, but she supposed that was to be expected. Pushing her discomfort away, she cautiously started making her way through the forest area, her gun held ready, and her body crouched low. She was poised to run at the slightest hint of danger, but as she caught sight of a shock rifle she went for it at a dead sprint. She reached it unscathed and put her enforcer in her belt, before swinging the heavier gun around. It felt more comfortable in her hands as she glanced around, every one of her senses strained to the maximum.

"What to do? What to do?" she murmured to herself. A series of shots at her feet made her jump, and glance around. Draik was running towards her, minigun upraised. More bullets peppered the ground around her, and she swung the shock rifle up and aimed, then fired. It went to the left, she gasped as a bullet bit into her thigh. She watched Draik coming, gun ready, his body was tense and his steps weren't very light.

_That thing has to be heavy_. She thought, and acting on a desperate plan, she started ducking and dodging and running to the side in a wide circle. Folly had to tire him out, that was the only way she'd be able to fight on this fairly open map. Of course doing that, tired her out just as much if not more, but she _had_ to. He was getting frustrated as she danced away from the shots. Finally when she knew she couldn't go another step, he swung the gun towards her a little too late. Seizing her chance she brought the shock rifle up, aimed, and fired. The first hit made him stumble, but the second made him fall. As she was about to run away, she felt cold metal pressed against the back of her neck. She whirled around, but as she did so the gun fired, slamming her in the shoulder, and as she hit the ground she saw the black haired man leaning over her and shaking his head with a grin.

"Amateur." Then she saw the sniper rifle come level with her face and everything dissolved. The pain was agonizing as she felt everything in her face start binding itself up, and when she respawned again, she felt even weaker than the first time. Pausing a minute she leaned against the boulder she was by, and tried to shove away the headache growing steadily worse in her temple. Her sharp eyes scanned the area and saw sprays of bullets flashing over the tops of the sparse trees. She pulled up her HUD somewhat clumsily, still not quite sure how to work the damn thing. There were six of them and the man called Night was in the lead, followed by a woman named Phaedra, then Draik, after him was Ginna, then to her shock, herself, and in last place, a man named Terre. If she could manage to get five more kills she could be in fourth place, which was the cut off before getting sent to jail. And she didn't intend on dealing with that particular experience. She scanned her surroundings again and saw a link gun, judging that no one was around she jogged over to it.

"Five more." She whispered, "Just five more." A jagged pain ripped from her spine through her stomach and everything went black. When she respawned she threw her enforcer on the ground in frustration.

"_Damn_ you!"

"Better luck next time, sweetheart." That was the black-haired man's, who she presumed was Night, voice.

"Shut up bastard." She spat into the HUD. She swept up her enforcer and strode across the shadowed forest floor, every one of her senses burning from the strain she was putting on them.

"Sit down!" crowed Draik. She saw that he'd just splattered Ginna.

"Fifteen minutes remain." Announced the cool voiced British woman.

"Five more." She whispered, throwing her brown gaze across the clear forest floor. A Necris woman was running across her path, but hadn't noticed Folly yet. She was tall and lean, her white skin almost glowing in the gloom about them. _Don't think._

Folly whipped up her enforcer and rattled off several rounds as the woman turned towards her, blood streaming from her back. The flak cannon in her hand rose, but Folly lunged to the side and shot off another six rounds. The Necris dropped, and the redhead had to stop herself from laughing with relief. She sprinted over to the body, grimacing as she picked up the flak cannon, prying it out of the dead woman's fingers. The already familiar sound of bullets blazing past her made her wheel around, flak cannon at the ready. Draik was running down the slope she'd just got off of, and she dodged behind a tree as the minigun bullets clipped her side.

_Gee, he sure does like that Minigun, _she thought, with the slightest irritation_._ Once he was closer she lurched around the tree and shot, the pieces of hot flak tore through him.

"Three more." She laughed to herself, then distantly wondered if she was getting slightly hysteric. Shaking off her thoughts she checked her HUD to see how everyone was doing. Ginna hadn't gotten any more kills, to Folly's relief. Terre still just had one, and Phaedra had fallen behind Draik.

Satisfied, Folly ran over another rise to the left to come face to face with a duel between Ginna and Night. They were ducking behind boulders and trees, trading fire with a Rocket Launcher and a Minigun, respectively. Night finally triumphed over the tall brunette woman, and Folly could hear his deep laugh, even with his back turned to her.

She paused. His _back_ was turned to her. Making a sudden decision she rushed out of the cover of shadows and as she flew by him, she unloaded the flak cannon straight into his spine. The effect was instantaneous and for a moment Folly was horrorstruck. He'd _exploded_, this time not just his face, but his whole body. Feeling decidedly light-headed she turned away from the mass of blood and giblets and took several shaky breaths.

"Two more." She murmured, trying to steel herself. Night's voice growled in her ear from the HUD.

"Lucky bitch." She didn't answer, as a mass of sludge at her feet suddenly erupted, and she jumped back. Pain seared through her whole leg as the sludge ate through her skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she screamed, whirling around to come face to face with Ginna. She unloaded the last bit of flak she had in the gun into the girl's face, secondary fire style, the body parts bouncing around was disturbing, but the burning in her leg distracted her from that. The rapidly decaying flesh finally stopped, just below mid-thigh. Still she was limping and that wasn't good, especially because every time she set her foot down agony shot through her whole body. _I hate this, _her inner voice responded calmly. _Oh shut up_, she snapped at herself, the pain making her even more irritable.

"Having trouble?" Night's snarl was taunting. She turned to him, trying to ignore her leg. He was maybe five feet away, and she couldn't help but faintly wonder how he'd gotten there so quietly.

"Not at all, nice of you to ask though." Her voice was tight with pain, a relaxed smile stole its way over his tan face and he almost lazily leveled the rocket launcher with her stomach.

"Anytime."

"Five minutes remain."

"One more." She whispered. Suddenly ripping out her enforcer she threw herself to the side and opened fire. In his surprise he dropped the rocket launcher, and she used the alternate fire and a grenade took his legs out. Her own leg collapsed under her weight and the pain of having the burnt skin pressed against the earth was indescribable. Hurting like fuck didn't even begin to cover it. Through her agony, she managed to check her HUD and was thrilled to see that she was ahead of Ginna by two, apparently the girl had fragged herself with her own rocket launcher. Roughly shoving herself to her feet, Folly started limping, in search of a health pack.

Cresting another little hill she was shocked to see Draik was _right there_. Before she could even react a shower of bullets shattered what was left of her health.

_He needs to chill the hell out with that thing,_ she thought angrily.

"You like that?" he sounded amused, and she frowned as she was respawned at the boulders again. To her surprise as soon she was back, she was floating in the darkness again.

_What just happened?_ She thought, as she respawned yet again. She blinked confusedly as Night appeared beside her. He looked furious.

"Fuckin' spawnhunter! I'll rip out his pretty little throat." He snarled.

"What?" she forgot herself for a minute and he turned to her in surprise.

"That damn Terre kid is spawn hunting and I can't fuckin' _stand_ spawnhunters."

"Oh." _Clever little bastard._ "Oh, _damn_!" she whipped up her enforcer, just a fraction of a second sooner than him, and snatched the trigger as far back and fast as possible. As he hit the ground, she couldn't tell if he had looked amused or furious.

"You tricky little bitch!" he laughed over the HUD once he was back again, it wasn't an altogether unpleasant laugh, but it wasn't pleasant either.

"Thirty seconds remain." She saw on her HUD that Terre had been splattered by the furious black-haired man, and allowed herself a grin.

"The match has ended; Night, Draik, Phaedra, and Folly will all proceed on." Folly felt the odd sensation of being translocated race through her body, and in a matter of seconds found herself back at the Liandri headquaters. The three others were there and Draik greeted her with a friendly smile. He still held that neutral posture, but now he seemed a little more expressive. His eyes didn't have that guarded, polite look about them anymore, they shone with the light of battle. Folly smiled back, about to walk over to him, but her legs gave out on her. She gasped, surprised just at how jello like they felt. Draik looked slightly concerned and walked over to her.

"My legs are wobbly." She told him, looking up. Night turned to face her as well and she saw a smirk play about his lips.

"A little bit of first timers' sickness. You're body's not used to the whole being rebuilt idea."

"Wonderful." She drawled, accepting Draik's hand when he offered it.

"At least you aren't pukin' your guts out like that damn Terre boy. As soon as he got here he headed for the bathroom, I'm just glad I won't be seein' the likes of his ass anymore." His black eyes narrowed, "Oh and that little trick you played back there? Beginner's luck." She tested her legs and eyed him, her lips quirking wryly.

"I'd be insulted if you called it anything else."

"Snarky bitch." He muttered, then started to ignore her again. The Necris woman had the chair she was in leaned against the wall on two legs, seemingly not paying any attention to the conversation. Folly could see how her head was slightly inclined towards them though, and knew she'd heard every word, even though her face remained carefully blank.

"So how does this work?" she asked, directing the question at Draik, leaning against the wall herself.

"The Tournament?" he asked mildly surprised.

"Yep." She replied.

"Don't you watch it?" she shook her head.

"I'm poor as a damn churchmouse. Don't have the time or money for such things."

"Well these are the preliminaries, everyone is tested to see if they'll put up a worthy fight. Once the first four of each match is-

"How many matches are there?" she asked, interrupting him abruptly. He frowned.

"I was getting there."

"Sorry." She didn't sound apologetic at all.

"Anyway, there are fifteen matches, six people per match. Four people get out of each match so you end up having sixty people left and that is divided into six groups. Ten people per group. If someone buys a group of people into the Tournament, and they make it out of the preliminaries they are automatically on a team."

"Like Andy did?"

"Yeah."

"But we only have six people."

"They'll supply any extras that are needed."

"Well okay then." Night had turned back around to them, obviously deciding talking was a touch more interesting then just listening.

"How'd your skinny little ass get thrown in this thing anyway? You're too sweet and soft to be mixed up with this crew, little lady."

"I was framed." She wrinkled her nose in distaste, as she tried to figure out if she was getting insulted or not. By this time others were starting to appear, and Folly spotted Dontus, Livia, Tippy, and Cinder all in the crowd. She wanted to wave at them, but she figured that wasn't a very well thought out action in the middle of this bloodthirsty crowd.

"How'd you get here?" Draik asked, glancing at Night.

"Killed a couple guys, nothin' serious. What about you boy?" Folly closed her eyes, suppressing an illogical smile. Maybe she was delirious, or maybe it was her head. She really didn't know, but that _shouldn't_ have been funny.

"Deserted the army." Draik responded, she could tell from his tone he didn't appreciate being called 'boy'.

"I don't blame ya, they're fuckin' corrupt." They were interrupted by a man in a sharp, dark blue suit with a blood red tie who stepped onto the slightly raised platform in the front of the wide room.

"Welcome to the Tournament, you sixty people have been given the chance to redeem yourselves and get out of this hell and leave a lot richer, but there are, as in everything, rules." Folly frowned, already sure that she was about to be bored out of her mind. She leaned her head up against the wall and gazed up at the high ceiling, pondering about her situation and what the hell she was going to do to get out of it. As the official man talked, a brown haired man of medium height threaded his way through the crowd and raised a hand in greeting to Night, who idly raised his own.

"I see you made it through your round…" he trailed off as he caught sight of Folly, raising an eyebrow he cast a bold glance over her, "Who's this pretty bird?"

"I'm not a _bird_." She snapped, "God, you idiots need to get your eyes checked... or maybe your heads." _I mean __**three**__ times in a span of like forty minutes? What. The. Fuck. People?_

"Apologies, apologies," he held up his hands in a placating gesture at the testy girl, "Who are you?" She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, before meeting his curious green eyed gaze.

"My name's Flora, but everyone calls me Folly."

"I'm Keeth." He smiled at her, and she gasped as she suddenly caught sight of a jagged scar on his throat.

"What happened to you?" she asked, her subtlety forgotten, he ran a finger along the hideous scar with a rueful grin.

"Had an unfortunate run in with a man who thought I'd been messing around with his girlfriend. But I got him back, that's why I'm here." After a moment she composed herself and rolled her eyes.

"Charming I'm sure." They were ignoring the man in the suit as he spoke, explaining about the ladders in the Tournament. Folly sighed, and closed her eyes again. Her head was throbbing with a steadily pulsating pain. Her feet slowly slipped out from underneath her, until she was sitting with her back on the wall.

It wasn't just her head anymore though, a certain soreness had crept into her whole body, until she was nothing but a single, miserable mass of pain.

"I see some of you have started feeling the effects of first time spawning," Folly glanced up at the man whose shockingly green eyes were sweeping over the room, and she noticed that several other people looked either nauseous or in pain, as they leaned against the wall like she was, "but your body should be used to it by the end of the week." He smiled benignly, "So any questions?"

"How long does this damn thing take?" growled a blonde man from in the middle of the group.

"It depends, the shortest Tournament we've ever had was five and a half months, while the longest lasted nearly two years." The brunette guy responded loftily as a collective groan rose from the mass of people. Folly didn't like his smile, it was oily and sly.

"Remember, only one team will gain their freedom."

"When are we starting?" this time it was a woman with spiky hair, and a hardened look about her.

"You will be assigned to your teams tonight, and tomorrow training begins. Two days after that your first match will take place, and three teams will leave. After we have three teams, then each team will fight in a deathmatch amongst themselves, and the two lowest ranking will be sent away, the day after that you'll be introduced to the competitors here by choice." He gestured and a servant girl scurried up and handed him two sheets of paper.

"Now as your name gets called please come up here." The team placement took a good while, and Folly's team was the last to get called. Before theirs though, was Night's.

"Night, Keeth, Phaedra, Llouvia and Lilya Imperioli, Fallyn, Morry Amaen, Wenda Guil, Beryn Danell, and Sail will all be on Team 9." Now there were only ten of them left, and calling out the names was completely unnecessary, but it seemed to Folly he enjoyed listening to his own voice. Pompous man that he was. Though half-dazed with pain she didn't miss the crafty gleam in his eyes, and the way he seemed to carry himself with a distinctive air of power. She bit back a snort, as she thought about all the men she'd met in the past couple days and how their egos were big enough to encircle the diameter of a medium sized planet.

"And finally for Team 10: Cinder, Tippy, Draik Nollens, Flora Blythe, Livia Imperioli, Dontus Samwells, Collie Anderson, Olena, Ludwig," (here Folly snorted), "and Eilen. Please proceed to the exit where your team owner will be waiting." He folded up the paper, with an air of great importance.

"Come on Folly." Draik said with a slight smile, as she held up a hand.

"Help me up." The brunette grabbed her hand and hauled her up, slightly surprised at how light she was.

"How much do you weigh?" he asked, watching her with his dark blue eyes.

"Erm… 103-ish?" At this Cinder shook his head.

"You're going to need to gain some weight, minimum weight limit is 110." She blinked.

"…Alright." Folly trudged after her newly formed team, observing the four people she didn't know. Ludwig (who she'd already mentally deemed 'Beethoven') was a tall, skinny boy maybe around her age with unruly light brown hair and soulful gray eyes; he looked like he'd probably write poetry and brood in dark corners a lot. He was nervous if his twitchy fingers were anything to judge by, they were constantly moving; tapping out some rhythm or tattoo on his thigh. _Maybe he's a pianist, that'd be great._

Collie didn't look too impressive, the only thing that stood out about her was that her hair and face looked like her namesake. She had long, straight masses of brown hair with blonde highlights, and it seemed to float and shiver about her long, plain face. Her eyes were almost black they were such a dark green. Folly liked the serene, almost detached air with which she carried herself, as if this had nothing to do with her and she was only here for herself and nobody else.

Folly however, did not like Olena. Neither did Tippy if the rough, black-haired woman's distasteful glare at the other girl was anything to judge by.

"I didn't know they let prostitutes in the Tournament." She snapped. Folly couldn't help but agree with that assessment. She was tall and had bleach blonde hair that could not in any universe be natural. Her eyes were outlined with so much eyeliner Folly felt as if she were looking a raccoon, and the redhead idly wondered just how the hell she'd managed to get make-up on before getting shipped here. And how she'd managed not to get it messed up in the deathmatch. Folly had to admit that took a special type of skill. She had sky blue eyes and the sneer on her face was enough to make Folly hate her forever. Olena didn't respond to Tippy's remark, only looked over at Cinder and Draik with mild interest. Folly gave the girl a final frown before examining her last teammate.

Eilen, if truth be told was less impressive then either Collie or Olena. He was short and small and couldn't have weighed more than Folly by any stretch of the imagination. He had ash blonde hair that hung limply to his shoulders and had obscure, murky green eyes. He was watching the others with shifty eyes, as if he'd expected to get jumped at any point in time. Here was a man, she thought to herself, that had been beaten up numerous times and had finally stood up for himself and gotten in a huge street brawl. Judging from the cuts and bruises on him she figured that he had lost that brawl, and had been captured by the guards to boot.

Draik seemed uncomfortable as Olena cast her blue eyes over him with a gaze that might have rivaled a hawk's.

"I'm Draik." He finally said hesitantly.

"Hmm, are you now?" he nodded, looking kind of scared, if truth be told and Folly bit back a tired smile.

"…Yes I am."

"You got a girlfriend?" she flashed hooded eyes over to Folly in the space of a second, who held up her hands and shook her head.

"Don't look at me, I just met him today." He cast her an aggrieved look that seemed to say, "Why would you do that to me?" Tippy snorted at Olena and strode across the hall with quick sure steps, as if to say Olena could take her raccoon eyes and shove them up her ass. Cinder nodded curtly at the blonde girl.

"Cinder."

"That's a nice name." she responded pleasantly enough. Livia traded a look with Folly and touched Olena's shoulder, before murmuring in her ear.

"He has a wife and kids." She turned and blinked at the tall, regal woman before taking in Folly's grin that she was desperately trying to hide. With a distasteful mutter she swept away from them and walked alongside Draik, who had shoved his hands in his pockets.

"So how'd you get here?" she asked him and Folly wondered whether everyone asked everyone that question in the Tournament. Livia prowled after them with her smooth gait, and Folly hurried after her with Dontus and Ludwig behind her, and after them came Collie and Eilen, both who seemed unsure of what to do.

In the common room Andy greeted them with a sunny smile, running his hand through his brown hair, peppered with gray. Folly glared and stood beside Draik, with her arms crossed. Olena was in the middle of telling how she ended up here.

"…and if the asshole didn't turn me in, as if I really meant to stab that guy." She tossed her long hair out of her face. Tippy looked intensely annoyed, her brilliant eyes absolutely spitting green fire. Livia leaned down next to Folly and whispered.

"If that girl keeps on I fear Tippy just might earn herself a few more years in jail for killing a teammate." Livia seemed downright delighted by the prospect of Olena's untimely end and Folly smiled in return, "She reminds me of my sister, always ready to fight..." It seemed like she said it more to herself then Folly, so she let it slide without comment.

"Well you all are my team now, so let me show you to your rooms." Andy said, raising his voice over the low conversations happening. As they walked in the space station Folly came to realize that is was a huge ass building and the realization only fueled her amazement because it was floating in the middle of space, by God. Draik and Livia had to constantly keep pushing her forwards as she'd stop by a window and stare with astonishment at the vast black vacuum around them. Around the twelfth or thirteenth time Draik glared at her.

"If you keep stopping I'm throwin' your ass over my shoulder and carrying you, got it?" It wasn't _her _fault the building had so many damn windows that looked out into the absolutely breathtaking stillness of _space_

"Do it if you don't ever want kids." For awhile she didn't stop, but at a huge window that took up nearly fifty feet she screeched to a halt. Draik didn't expect the sudden pause and stumbled against her, but managed to keep them both on their feet. He wrapped his long fingers around her forearms, with his chest just about pressed flatly against her back, as they started to fall, but then pulled back. Not missing the glare Olena shot their way.

"Christ, Folly what the hell?" He snapped, lightly shoving her away.

"Do you not _see_ that Draik? It's huge…" her light brown eyes were glued to the star cluster that looked so close you could touch it as she absently tugged at his sleeve. The blue and white sparkles looked so beautiful and pure Folly wanted to fall into them, and never come back, "and gorgeous." The others stopped a little while and examined it, Collie seemed just as spellbound as Folly, but the others soon realized that it was _cold_ right by that huge window and they wanted to leave. Draik prodded her in the back.

"Didn't I say I was going to throw you over my shoulder?"

"… I don't know." She said, dazed, "You might've."

"It's not going anywhere Folly, let's go." Andy said, obviously amused by his ex-cook. Finally with some effort she ripped herself away from the awesome scene, and idly tugged at Collie's arm. Both trailed after Cinder and Tippy, quiet and very much impressed.

"You know this place might not be half-bad." Folly murmured to the plain girl.

"If I can look at stuff like that everyday, I say bring it on. There is _nothing _on Earth that is even close to that." Folly smiled at her.

"I know, everything's just… boring down there." Collie answered her smile with her own, and nodded in agreement.

"Exactly." After a couple minutes of walking in silence Folly glanced over at Collie.

"Why're you here? You really don't seem like someone who would commit a crime bad enough to get herself thrown in the Tournament." The brunette girl sighed and glanced up at the ceiling, high above them.

"Apparently I've been spreading slander about Liandri." Folly frowned.

"You sound as if they framed you."

"They _did_, I wrote _one _article in the paper about how Liandri affected our lives and that maybe we could take a small break. They came to my house like three days later and arrested me. What about you?"

"I got framed too." Folly answered.

"Why?"

"That's classified according to Andy." The redhead muttered bitterly. Collie raised an eyebrow, but didn't pry.

"Ah well I guess we're stuck in this, we might as well try and enjoy as much as we can." They both looked at each other for a moment, then snorted.

Folly was still so unhappy with her circumstances it was almost amazing, but she figured as long as she could gripe about Liandri and society in general with somebody else then maybe it would turn out alright… Maybe.

Oh and as a sidenote, when I first thought up Collie's name, I didn't even think about the fact that it rhymed with Folly, so that was unintentional :). Also, I apologize for the bird references about Folly, it's just that in my head when I think of her appearance, she reminds me of a bird. All small and flighty and junk, if that makes any sense...


	4. Chapter 4

Oh… Heeeeeey guys, remember me? *apologeticnervousgiggle* Anyway I'm so, _so _sorry it's been like almost a frackin' _year_ since I last updated (pleaseforgiveme). Furrealz, though, I wouldn't be too upset if y'all attempted to beat me unmercifully with the nearest potentially dangerous object. 'Cause it's been awhile and I prolly deserve it a little.

Unfortunately, my chickpeas, you're gonna have to wait a leetle bit longer (please resist your natural urge to throw bricks at me). It's just I sorta hit a rut with Folly and I haven't managed to completely recover yet… It's getting there though! So no worries… sorta. But since it's been senior year I've been trying to get all my crap for college together and I've been busy. Hopefully though, now that everything's winding down, I'll be able to actually y'know finish this. Which I do plan to do by the way. It may take me awhile, but it's gonna happen eventually. I mean I've got how I want everything to turn out, it's just been a matter of figuring out how I'm going to do the actual Tournament really… And how much I want to scar poor Folly (but I'll stop there 'cause I don't want to give anything away).

Also my copy of UT is kinda wonky so Imma have to go find something online to give me some ideas. Again I'm very sorry for taking forever and a dang day =/. And if there's anyone still looking at this story, thank yooooooou and I just flippin' love ya :).

So yeah, hopefully Chapter 4 (I've actually got most of it written) of AToF will be out very, very soon. And I think that's all the excuses and apologies and appeasement I have for now. So here goes Entropy, signing off for now: And have a freakin' wonderful day! :D. (Lulz I kinda feel like a dork _).


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